Notes from my Knapsack 10-20-22
Jeff Gill
Water is both a path and a barrier
___
Here I am thinking about county growth and development and watersheds, and right in mid-mulling we're hearing in the Granville area about bridges.
The big one across Rt. 16 just got renovated (essentially replaced in pieces), but you actually cross Raccoon Creek at the Cherry St. viaduct, the big curve from Rt. 16 up into the village, and on Main St. you cross it just after the fire station as you come into downtown.
You can go west and cross Raccoon Creek beyond where Raccoon Valley Road forks north, and take the parallel over towards Alexandria alongside Rt. 161 on Moots Run Rd.; it used to be Granville's third river crossing when you could shoot west and jump onto the highway before it got highwayified.
And then the fourth Granville crossing was actually just outside of even today's village limits, over where Arby's and Bob Evans and Speedway front on the highway east of the village, and Cherry Valley Hotel stands just beyond the border.
Beyond that, on past the new T-intersection for Thornwood Crossing, is/was the "Cherry Valley Bridge" as the ODOT signs now say, or historically the "Showman Arch Bridge." Our fourth river crossing, now closed to traffic, pushing drivers on east into Newark to make their way north over Raccoon creek at Church St. or as far as 21st St. let alone the official detour down W. Main in Newark to Rt. 79.
Why so far? Well, the T-intersection was never meant as more than a stop-gap. Plans have always been to build a Thornwood Connector from where River Road and Thornwood meet then swerve onto Reddington Rd., straightening it out to leap the creek and connect Thornwood Crossing to Thornwood Drive. We got the first part built, the interchange, and the rest is coming . . . just not soon enough, it appears!
The three arch stone bridge we took for granted for so long was built in 1832 to 1833, so almost 190 years of service: first as an aqueduct, then after the Granville Feeder was no longer in service for the Ohio & Erie Canal (pieces of which still loom over Raccoon Creek if you know where to look), it was filled in and became a bridge for carts and horses and wagons, and finally some 10,000 motor vehicles a day.
Why no other bridges to get from south of the creek in west Newark to the east side of Granville? Geography and geology. Park Trails sits atop a line of bluffs, sharp and steep, formerly known as Rattlesnake Heights, once dotted with Native American mounds. Opposite that obstacle, on the other side of the river just to the east, is Ashley Hill and what was once the famous Dugway, a cut bank and road around the base of the hill following the creek. Now the deep chasm of modern Rt. 16 slices right through the southern prominence, and most miss it. But for a long time, it was a major barrier to Newark-Granville traffic, unless you swung south onto the Old Columbus Road, today's W. Main and veering onto what's now Cherry Valley Road through Central City, and crossing at the Showman aqueduct bridge.
To replace it will take time, and the only time we have is ahead of us. So that's when it will be done, and we'll have to make the best of today while we have it.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he likes wading creeks and climbing hills to get to see this stuff to tell you about. Tell him anything but how much you wish they'd built the new bridge last year at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
Friday, October 07, 2022
Tuesday, October 04, 2022
Faith Works 10-7-22
Faith Works 10-7-22
Jeff Gill
A shifting season of leaves & light
___
November 6 is the day we fall back an hour, returning to standard from daylight savings.
We already know the sunset is falling back, coming earlier, even as the sunrise is later. Less light, more dark, cooler air and crisper leaves.
This is also a time for seeing more stars, paying more attention to the moon. You don't have to be a night owl to be out and see the Big Dipper wheeling in the north, and the rise of Orion in the east (one of his many names).
The Newark Earthworks, along with other Hopewell culture period ceremonial mounds and enclosures, are helping us watch the cycle of moonrise points along the eastern horizon. There's an open house coming at the Octagon Earthworks, the last of four for the year, on Sunday, October 16th, all day on the 135 acre property and with tours and programming at 33rd St. and Parkview just north of W. Main St., between Noon and 4:00 pm.
As a preview of the Octagon's open house, I'll be leading a walk for anyone who wants to see some hidden gems, not all preserved officially, of what was once a four and half square mile complex of interconnected geometric figures built two thousand years ago. My walking tour is starting and finishing at the Great Circle Earthworks, just off Rt. 79 between Newark and Heath, which is open daylight hours all year. I'm actually going to take those who come along on a three mile hike off of the park property, along sidewalks and down side streets plus a few alleys. There's more than you might think that's left, for all of modern development and demolition.
We meet at the museum on Saturday, Oct. 15th at 9:00 am and I plan to get you back to where we started by Noon. That's about one mile per hour, or strolling 3 MPH and pausing for some storytelling and answering questions here and there. Please come along if you are interested, just show up with a water bottle and good shoes.
I like to walk in any season, but especially autumn. The temps are congenial, the light has a certain angle to it, especially early in the morning or towards sunset, and the scents of fall are always around.
Scholars and students and storytellers (I've been all three at various times) think that people once walked great distances to experience moonrises, perhaps sunrises, at the Newark Earthworks. A circuit of the shapes, from creek to observatory to square to circle and back through square to ellipse, then to water again on another drainage, one path through that might have been "a" way if not "the" way, is seven miles, more likely ten if you circumambulate each figure.
Walking and prayer are very closely tied for me. The traditional view links worship, in a church, with prayer and vice versa, but many traditions include pilgrimages and circumambulations of their own: Stations of the Cross, labyrinths, walking the sawdust trail, coming forward to confess your sins, your faith. Walking, walking.
Many faiths come together at the earthworks. The story being told by and at the earthworks is still a narrative we're assembling, re-telling, renewing even, I hope. The moon is a focal point, but I believe even that heavenly body is simply an index, a guide directing eyes and hearts and spirits to something — someone — beyond even their rising light.
From whatever your perspective, come walk the earthworks with us.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's been learning about the mounds of this area for some time, with a long way to go. Tell him what you know, or would like to know, at knapsack77@gmail.com or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
Jeff Gill
A shifting season of leaves & light
___
November 6 is the day we fall back an hour, returning to standard from daylight savings.
We already know the sunset is falling back, coming earlier, even as the sunrise is later. Less light, more dark, cooler air and crisper leaves.
This is also a time for seeing more stars, paying more attention to the moon. You don't have to be a night owl to be out and see the Big Dipper wheeling in the north, and the rise of Orion in the east (one of his many names).
The Newark Earthworks, along with other Hopewell culture period ceremonial mounds and enclosures, are helping us watch the cycle of moonrise points along the eastern horizon. There's an open house coming at the Octagon Earthworks, the last of four for the year, on Sunday, October 16th, all day on the 135 acre property and with tours and programming at 33rd St. and Parkview just north of W. Main St., between Noon and 4:00 pm.
As a preview of the Octagon's open house, I'll be leading a walk for anyone who wants to see some hidden gems, not all preserved officially, of what was once a four and half square mile complex of interconnected geometric figures built two thousand years ago. My walking tour is starting and finishing at the Great Circle Earthworks, just off Rt. 79 between Newark and Heath, which is open daylight hours all year. I'm actually going to take those who come along on a three mile hike off of the park property, along sidewalks and down side streets plus a few alleys. There's more than you might think that's left, for all of modern development and demolition.
We meet at the museum on Saturday, Oct. 15th at 9:00 am and I plan to get you back to where we started by Noon. That's about one mile per hour, or strolling 3 MPH and pausing for some storytelling and answering questions here and there. Please come along if you are interested, just show up with a water bottle and good shoes.
I like to walk in any season, but especially autumn. The temps are congenial, the light has a certain angle to it, especially early in the morning or towards sunset, and the scents of fall are always around.
Scholars and students and storytellers (I've been all three at various times) think that people once walked great distances to experience moonrises, perhaps sunrises, at the Newark Earthworks. A circuit of the shapes, from creek to observatory to square to circle and back through square to ellipse, then to water again on another drainage, one path through that might have been "a" way if not "the" way, is seven miles, more likely ten if you circumambulate each figure.
Walking and prayer are very closely tied for me. The traditional view links worship, in a church, with prayer and vice versa, but many traditions include pilgrimages and circumambulations of their own: Stations of the Cross, labyrinths, walking the sawdust trail, coming forward to confess your sins, your faith. Walking, walking.
Many faiths come together at the earthworks. The story being told by and at the earthworks is still a narrative we're assembling, re-telling, renewing even, I hope. The moon is a focal point, but I believe even that heavenly body is simply an index, a guide directing eyes and hearts and spirits to something — someone — beyond even their rising light.
From whatever your perspective, come walk the earthworks with us.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's been learning about the mounds of this area for some time, with a long way to go. Tell him what you know, or would like to know, at knapsack77@gmail.com or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.
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